


all the things we might not be

by devote



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Mentioned AtsuKita, character study of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devote/pseuds/devote
Summary: “Hey—”“Shut up and close your eyes,” Osamu says threateningly, shoving the business end of the brush in his face. Atsumu goes a little cross-eyed trying to track it. “Your stupid face’s distractin’ me. I can’t believe you got Kita-san to agree to this. His reputation’s gonna be ruined.”Osamu does Atsumu's makeup for a Halloween party. It goes a lot better than they expect.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Comments: 14
Kudos: 90
Collections: HQween- A Haikyuu Halloween Zine





	all the things we might not be

There’s a quiet rhythm to it: the soft sweep of the brush over his eyelids, the feathery fall of powder on his cheek, the warm puff of air on his nose as Osamu swears under his breath. Atsumu cracks one eye open and scowls at his twin, unable to escape the iron grip he has on his chin.

“Hey—”

“Shut up and close your eyes,” Osamu says threateningly, shoving the business end of the brush in his face. Atsumu goes a little cross-eyed trying to track it. “Your stupid face’s distractin’ me. I can’t believe you got Kita-san to agree to this. His reputation’s gonna be ruined.”

He’s scowling, irritation scrunching his nose and twisting into the crease between his brows. But the careful touch of his finger as he smudges out Atsumu’s eyeshadow tempers his annoyance, gentle even as the hand on his chin squeezes so hard that it aches. He doesn’t give Atsumu a chance to respond, dipping his brush over the curve of his jaw so Atsumu can’t open his mouth. _Pain in my ass_ , Atsumu’s teenage brain supplies cleverly. _I’m gonna make Kita-san look good in front of everyone._ But he can’t speak, so he twists his hands restlessly in his lap instead, picking impatiently at his nails.

“Stop it, that’s a disgusting habit,” Osamu mutters, but he’s distracted, attention focused on the swirling vines he’s tracing over Atsumu’s jugular, tilting his head back to dip his brush against his pulse. It’s odd to see his twin’s face staring back at him with so little malice, just an assessing squint and a touch of self-satisfaction. Normally this face is the last thing he sees before a vicious headbutt, but Osamu’s helping him tonight, getting his “ugly mug” ready for his dazzling debut as Miya Atsumu, Kita Shinsuke’s Boyfriend and Resident King of Halloween. It’s irrelevant that he had to bribe Osamu with a month’s supply of discounted Halloween candy. If anything, he’s doing Osamu a favor, letting him practice his art somewhere besides the margins of his notes and his own face. And besides, it’s oddly comforting, letting his younger twin take care of him for once. Atsumu hates staying still, hates being vulnerable, even if he knows Osamu sees through all of his defenses anyway. But it’s nice. Letting Osamu lead. Sitting back to watch.

Osamu sets his brush aside with a sigh, cracking his knuckles loudly in Atsumu’s ears.

“‘Kay. Face done. Arms next,” he says shortly, holding out an expectant hand.

“Took you long enough,” Atsumu snarks, but he sets his forearm in Osamu’s palm, watching as he dips a second, thicker brush in a pot of deep green pigment, swirling it over his skin in cool, steady strokes until the spade-shaped edges of leaves start to take shape. He’s the Persephone to Kita’s Hades tonight, a half-hearted idea he’d thrown out during a Disney movie marathon that he still can’t believe Kita’d agreed to. They’re meeting up with Kita and Aran to walk to the party together, and he’s not quite sure how to carry himself. He’s not sure if Kita’s going to go as full-out as he is. But Halloween is his favorite time of year, and the steady sweep of Osamu’s brush is soothing, lulling him with every new color that blooms over his arms.

He trusts the idiot, wordlessly, implicitly. The hand guiding the brush is roughened by care as much as it’s roughened by the harsh sting of the volleyball, old spiking calluses mixing with the bandaged blisters on his knuckles where he’d burned himself cooking curry for Atsumu yesterday. Atsumu thinks that’s the best way to tell them apart. Not Osamu’s (abrasive) personality, or his (shitty) box-dye highlights, but the tape on his own fingers, stiff from hours of practicing a new set long after the others had gone home. Those new hurts mark the distance that’s steadily been growing between them, the slam of Atsumu’s palm against leather drowning out the low hiss of the stove at home with increasing desperation. Osamu’s been spending more and more time in the kitchen, wordlessly trying to get Atsumu’s favorite dishes right when their parents are away on business trip after business trip. He knows it’s selfish, but he misses when Osamu’s fingers were only taped for practice, when their bodies were the same in face and passion alike. This whole thing’s a bit too sentimental, really, this delicate application of paint for another high school party that’s just going to have too-loud music and too-strong drinks. But it’s fitting: Osamu concealing the blue-green branches of his veins under new armor, the lilac curves of petals smoothing away the bruise on his elbow from a messy receive last week. Osamu’s always there to fill in those ugly, missing parts of him, always there at the net before Atsumu even needs to signal his next toss. Halloween means they can dress up as anything, right? So maybe the new life flowering down his arms means he can let himself be a little sentimental tonight, can let himself miss this, this familiar space shared by siblings and old friends. They still have another year with this team. But it’s not enough. Never enough.

His eyes feel a bit damp. He blames it on the powder caught in his lashes.

“Stop makin’ that face,” Osamu says, words landing as bluntly as they always do. He uses the wooden end of his brush to tap Atsumu on the forehead, careful not to smudge the makeup there. “Lighten up. Kita-san’s gonna look insane, so you’d better look happy or Aran’s gonna kick your ass.”

“I’m not makin’ a face,” Atsumu protests, but he closes his eyes anyways, lets himself relax under Osamu’s ministrations. He’s right, though. He doesn’t need to get so stuck in his own head tonight.

 _Thanks_ , he thinks, quiet.

“Alright, all done,” Osamu says with a sigh, dragging his words out and rubbing at the paint smudged on his wrist. “I did a good job. Your face is almost tolerable now.”

“Fuck you,” Atsumu says easily, sliding out of his chair when Osamu fumbles for his mirror to hit him with it. He grins down at himself, childish excitement overtaking Osamu’s annoyed grumbling.

“Holy shit, ‘Samu! This looks amazing!”

“That’s the idea,” Osamu mutters, rubbing the excess makeup on his hands off with a wipe. He squints at his desk, assessing, then tugs on a jacket and grabs the cat headband Atsumu wears when he does his skincare routine. “Now let’s go.”

“Hey—” Atsumu protests, but Osamu cuts him off with a glare. “Kita-san’s waitin’. And if you make us any later for our last party with the third-years I’m seriously gonna kill you.”

Atsumu stares at his headband forlornly. It’s going to make Osamu’s forehead look massive, but Osamu’s going to kick his ass if he tells him.

“...Fine. Fine.”

“Wait—” Osamu snatches the cheap flower crown Atsumu’d found at the store last week, leaning forward to nestle it in Atsumu’s hair.

“There. Now you look like a proper earth goddess.”

Atsumu reaches up to tug at the flowers, the plastic leaves slipping through his fingers.

“Thanks, ‘Samu,” he says, teeth gritting with the effort it takes to say it out loud.

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me big. Now come on,” Osamu says, tossing Atsumu’s jacket at him, and Atsumu follows him out the door into the brisk October air, trails behind him for just a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> short n sweet fic for the haikyuu halloween zine!! <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/miwavevo) x


End file.
